Reflected (Silver Series) (33 page)

“First of all, he’ll be more likely to listen to you if you let him cool down for a while—maybe even a good long while. And second—and more important—are you really trying to apologize, or are you trying to make yourself feel better?”

“Of course I’m not—” Felicia’s father cut her off with a gesture, and she glowered at the linoleum.

“Because if you really want to make
him
feel better, you won’t talk to him again until he’s good and ready to talk to you.”

Because he was her father, and Lady-damned right far too often, he didn’t press his point, just got a National Park mug covered in evergreens and poured himself his morning coffee from the pack’s large pot. Felicia considered smashing her phone, or bursting into tears, or wailing at her father about how she hated herself for what she’d done to Tom and why couldn’t he see that?

She didn’t do any of those things, however. “You can’t confiscate it, anyway. This number’s on my résumé. People might be calling me for interviews.” It came out sounding sulkier than she’d wanted, but she supposed that still beat tears.

Her father paused midsip and raised his eyebrows. “Good for you. Had any yet?”

Felicia glared at the floor. “Not yet. But I put in a ton of applications. Seriously, a ton. Ask Susan. Or Silver—she kept grilling me about it all the time.”

Her father swallowed a mouthful in silence, and Felicia wondered whether he was thinking of saying she could set the job search aside awhile. That made her angry for some inexplicable reason, and she hurried to cut him off. “And Susan says there’s an opening for a teller at her bank branch, and I’m really hopeful about that one, because she can give my résumé directly to HR.” So there. She relaxed a little while her father merely nodded. She needed at least
one
arena to prove herself in right now, Felicia realized. That’s where her anger had come from when she thought her father was going to take it away from her.

“So long as you’re not going to run off roaming…” Her father squeezed her shoulder and trailed off meaningfully.

Felicia couldn’t figure out what his meaning was, though. His dry tone suggested he was making some kind of joke, but … “What’s that supposed to mean?” She crossed her arms.

“To find Tom, I mean—” Her father winced and cut himself off, probably at seeing her expression.

“I’m not that stupid!” Felicia shouted it, even as something at the back of her mind noted that if she’d had that idea herself a minute ago, she’d have thought it was a pretty good one. “Lady, Dad!” Frustration surged up, bringing misery back with it, and she jerked into pacing steps. “I mean, he deserves an apology in person, if he was here, I’d do that, I’m not a coward, but all this, I can’t—” She felt tears starting up and growled.

“Sometimes, having all the pack return from the hunt, no matter the state they return in, needs to be counted as a win.” Her father would have touched her comfortingly again, but Felicia dodged. He looked so sympathetic, she didn’t
want
that right now. She wanted someone to punish her, be outwardly angry with her, so she could atone for her mistakes, instead of imagining the resentment he or Silver or the others might be hiding.

“Shut up.” Felicia put her hands over ears and headed out of the kitchen for the stairs. She didn’t want to deal with him right now. Time to hide in her room again.

*   *   *

Silver drifted over to look at Felicia’s closed door a few moments after the resounding slam. While overhearing the young woman’s conversation with Dare, she’d decided her presence wouldn’t help the situation, but now she wondered if anything could have changed this inevitable result.

“The young are so talented at moping,” Death commented.

“What she broke can most likely be fixed,” Silver said. “It’ll just take time. And time stretches long for the young.”

“A mother would go and comfort her.” Death said it much too sweetly, and in his own voice. The voice of Silver’s mother came into her mind, dropped by an errant tendril of mist. Not the words, just the tone.

“She’s had comfort. A friend would go and comfort her. By now, a mother would go tell her to pull herself together.” Silver remembered that in her mother’s tone, much as it had frustrated her at the time.

“Your choice, Silver.” Death spoke in her mother’s voice now, exactly as she remembered, though of course her mother wouldn’t have used that name. “No one will fault you, whichever you choose.”

Silver went up to Felicia’s room and knocked instead of making the decision. She didn’t know what she should choose, wasn’t even sure now what she wanted to choose, faced with it. She’d talk to Felicia, anyway.

“What?” Felicia’s voice was subdued.

Silver took that for assent and entered. Felicia was cocooned in her bed, wild self and a plush puppy in her lap, white on top of black. Morsel was curled up high, out of reach. Her fur looked disarranged, like Felicia had tried to cuddle her and the cat had disagreed.

“Do you want to come on the hunt tonight?” A weak beginning, but a beginning, at least.

Felicia hunched farther over her puppy. “I can’t, Silver. All I can think of is everyone looking at me, knowing what I did. How can they ever forgive me? How can I ask them to?”

“I’d like to tell you a story, if you’ll listen.” Silver picked up a brush and held it up as an additional invitation. Felicia eyed her for several moments, then shrugged with exaggerated unconcern, set her toy aside, and pulled off her clothes. Silver looked away as she switched tame self for wild in a few moments of effort.

Silver brushed her ruff first, smoothing it so it puffed up evenly, pretty. “In the time after the Lady had left Her children, a beta led the hunt one night. He was proud, because it was his first hunt as leader. He was determined to show he was worthy of being beta. He thought strength lay in never asking for help, instead of being confident enough to know that everyone needs help.”

Silver did Felicia’s flank next, leaning into the strokes. The young woman’s ears were slightly flat, which was probably a good sign that she was listening. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have spotted the parallels to her own situation.

“And since he didn’t ask, he didn’t know about the danger. He led them right into a band of human hunters and could not escape before one of his pack mates was dead. He led his remaining pack mates home, prostrated himself before his alpha with his apologies, and left that night, to be a lone.

“The pack grieved, and cursed the beta for a fool, but life held more than grief and curses for them. They lived and loved and grieved, and the beta settled into their memories. Only the mate of the one who had been killed began each day reciting the wrongs the beta had done her. He had gotten her mate killed. He had killed her mate.”

Felicia’s ears slowly lifted as her attention sharpened. Silver lengthened a stroke down to the tip of her tail. “Over time, as the rest of the pack grew frustrated with the mate, her list of complaints grew. He killed her mate. He turned the pack against her. He ruined her life. He made her an object of pity.

“Her pack told her she needed to forgive him, but she said what he had done was unforgivable. She hugged her grievances closer and closer to herself, until she walked hunched over around their weight. Her wild self grew hunched and small too.”

Silver let her strokes slow, but Felicia didn’t seem to notice. Her attention was tight on Silver’s face. Perhaps she was surprised the story hadn’t followed the beta.

“Then the beta returned. He was older, wiser, and did not ask to be forgiven. But they forgave him anyway, because he was family and pack, and because life had moved on for all of them. All except for the mate. She burst into the den where they had offered the beta a share of the kill, stood as tall as she could anymore, and ranted at him, every grievance in the long list she had hugged to herself until it had become part of her very voice.

“The beta looked at her sadly. ‘Do not forgive me, then,’ he said. ‘I don’t deserve it. Forgiveness would be for me. But let your grievances go, for you. Holding them so close is hurting you.’”

Silver gently rubbed her fingers behind Felicia’s ears, where the fur was softest. “But she couldn’t hear. She shifted form to tear him to pieces with her teeth, but her wild self was so twisted and stunted, she could only slither along the ground. She shook her tail, where all of the grievances had solidified, and they rattled together. So she slithered away as a rattlesnake, poisonous and alone, able only to rattle her grievances to the world for the rest of her life.”

Silver leaned her cheek against the top of Felicia’s head. “Forgiveness can’t be earned. It can’t even truly be asked for. It can only be given, as a gift. If our pack is smart, they’ll let their grievances go, for themselves. But if they do more, if they offer you forgiveness, don’t ask how you can deserve it. Accept their gift and remember, for some later time when you might find a chance to give it, undeserved, in return.”

Felicia’s ear flicked against Silver’s hair, in thought. She pulled away and went to the edge of her bed and changed back. Her face showed confusion still. “Easy for you to say,” she said, but it lacked a note of the earlier whining.

Here was Silver’s choice, she realized. To comfort, or push. Lady watch over her on this path, but she knew which, now. She took Felicia’s wrist and tugged her up. “Easier for you to do if you at least try.” She sharpened her tone. “Stop hiding in here, Felicia. Come on the hunt tonight. Tom will come back or he won’t. You have to pull yourself together.”

“But…” Felicia frowned at the ground.

As an alpha, she could order Felicia to come on the hunt. Instead she raised her eyebrows and waited until Felicia looked up and absorbed the expression. Silver wasn’t going to order her, but that’s what she thought Felicia should do. Would she?

Silver dropped Felicia’s wrist and left the room to leave her to make her decision in privacy. Lady grant her efforts had helped the young woman.

24

Felicia threw her pillow at the door as Silver closed it behind her. Why did Silver have to be so … so infuriatingly
right,
the way her father always was?

Or was that, “the way her mother would have been?”

Felicia’s stomach rumbled, reminding her that what with stomping out on her father, she hadn’t actually gotten any breakfast. She already knew she didn’t have anything left stashed up here, but she looked around the room anyway. It was kind of a disgusting pit at the moment. She’d spent a lot of time here the past few days, so several dirty plates were stacked on the dresser, and she’d dropped clothes all over the floor. Much longer and the smell would change from a more concentrated form of her own scent to a stink. She pulled on her clothes and picked the rest up. By the Lady, she would show Silver. She’d pull herself together in record time.

When she took the plates downstairs, the kitchen was mostly deserted, the breakfast rush finished. Odds and ends of food hadn’t been put in the fridge yet, and though she detected her father’s meddling, Felicia collected them onto a new plate. The sausages left in the pan were all burned on one side, but Felicia took them anyway. She could cut off the charred bits and save them for Morsel.

Someone knocked on the front door. Curiosity flaring weakly to life, Felicia paused with her food to listen for who it was.

“Is Roanoke Dare available? I’d like to speak to him.” A voice Felicia didn’t recognize, followed quickly by one she did.

“Eliza, shut up. We’re saying good-bye, nothing more. I’m sorry, Roanoke.” Portland’s voice sounded like she was speaking from between gritted teeth.

“I’ll see if he’s available,” Silver said frostily and crossed into the kitchen. Her father stepped in from the dining room, coffee still in hand. They exchanged an exasperated look packed with meaning Felicia didn’t quite catch, then her father exhaled on a note of amusement. He stepped over to Silver and pressed a kiss to her head.

“I’m far too busy to meet with them at the moment,” he said very low against her hair. He stepped back and lifted his coffee mug to toast her with an air of wishing her luck. He squeezed Felicia’s shoulder as he took his coffee through the dining room deeper into the house. Silver braced her shoulders and headed back to the entryway.

Felicia remembered she was standing in the middle of the kitchen with a plate of food that was not getting any warmer, so she slipped into the dining room to eat just as Silver showed in Portland, her beta, and the new woman. Seen and smelled closer, she reminded Felicia of Portland, so she presumed she was the sister, here about Portland’s pregnancy and her beta’s petition. When the pack had filled her in on the gossip, Felicia had been shocked at how much she’d missed while dealing with her own problems.

Felicia sat down at one end of the long table—they left all the leaves in, so the whole pack could eat dinner at the same time, if schedules worked out that way—and the sister and Craig sat down at the other. She kept her head down over her plate. This didn’t concern her, but no one had kicked her out yet. Besides, eavesdropping was a welcome distraction from crafting another apology to Tom in her head.

Silver and Portland chatted in the doorway and eventually drifted deeper into the house, leaving the sister and Craig to pointed boredom. Craig took it better than she did. He slumped down into the stance of someone who could wait forever, lost in his own thoughts. The sister fidgeted.

“I suppose the two of them are in there plotting their strategy,” the sister burst out at length.

Craig hauled himself upright. “Eliza. For the love of the Lady, tell me you’re not planning to take that tack with Roanoke Dare against his mate.”

Felicia started eating slower, so she wouldn’t end up with an empty plate and attract notice for sitting there with it.

Eliza pressed her hand flat to the table, as if to help her keep control. She and Craig seemed so focused on each on other and their mission here, Felicia suspected she didn’t need to worry about notice. “And you’re not here to hear his ruling separate from hers, then?” Eliza’s sarcasm was not particularly under control.